The West Indies-Wind Writing Chapter 7: Dream Departure

Friday, February 17, 2012

My mind was awake before my eyes were
open. I felt sadness was the only blanket on me now. I breathed slowly as it covered me,
embracing the reality that we would be leaving the Caribbean today. Leaving the warm air, leaving the aqua waters and the bright sea creatures, leaving the sailing winds
and our sailing boat, leaving each other.

When we landed Scott and I would return to San Diego, Maddie to New York
and Danielle and my parents to Orange County. I knew that when I got out of my
bed today I would want to sail to a new harbor, not fly back to familiar land.
I didn’t feel ready to go back. I liked the person I was out here. Maybe I even liked not running into some of the people and things from home that made me feel differently. This new way of existing had become so comfortable and it’s always hard leaving a place that gives you peace.

Don’t get me wrong, there were plenty of things I missed about home. I missed our bed. I
missed our kitchen and its helpful appliances. I missed our friends and our
neighborhood. I missed burritos. And pathetically enough, I missed the Internet
and its marvelous amount of useful and useless information. These things were a comfortable part of my
life at home, but I craved more of what I had found here-the uncomfortable
moments that really helped me see things differently.

At
the start of this trip, I had reflected that the landscape surrounding us seemed
familiar, but the more we traveled around and learned about the winds, the
seas, the island culture and each other, the more I realized that we were miles
away from places that we’ve been before. That feeling was addicting. I’ve got to get home, though. There are things I need to tend to there and there are ways I can grow in that soil and thrive in those waters, too.

Thank goodness for the memories from this little sail. Thank goodness for the people who were a part of it. Thank goodness for the lessons that came during it and will come later after our plane touches down.

One thing I know that, in many ways, I feel I’ve been forced to embrace, is that you can’t battle with time. Time brings you to the things you need even if you can’t see it in the moment. And, well, it’s time to go home.

Comments

There is something so freeing about being in a new place….a remote place….a place disconnected from daily life. It's as though, in that freedom, you can completely reinvent yourself, your relationships, your habits.

It's always sad to face the eventuality of returning home…back to the familiar {even when the familiar is something we love.}

Devon DeMint is a mother, writer and surfer living in a funky beach town in northern San Diego with her husband and two daughters. When she is not busy with the above, she can be found Googling 'what do your insides look like at 9 months pregnant?' and 'is quiche actually healthy?'. She loves sweet wine, making up words for body parts and sleeping outside. She has neat closets and messy kitchen floors. [Read more...]